Always
by TruffleHead
Summary: Mordred sees Merlin's heart break when no one else can. Established Merdred. Magic reveal.
1. Always

**I know Merdred is a touchy ship for some people, and I just want you guys to know that that's a-ok with me, but just leave me to sail my gleeful little ship on my own. You don't sink my ship, and I won't sink yours.**

**Flames are mean. What would Uther say.**

Mordred awoke in a cold sweat for what had to be the fifth time in a row, shivering all over and trying desperately to clear his mind of the images that plagued him.

The opposite side of the bed was still empty, cold, and Mordred sighed. Of course his nightmares persisted; Emrys still wasn't back yet. With a shaky, whispered word, the candle beside his bed ignited. He relished the warmth that spread through his chest as he let the magic go, cherishing the small yet effective comfort.

It hurt, to have to keep it inside yourself all day; worse, to keep it inside to keep it safe from others' disgust. At times, the only thing keeping Mordred from using magic in front of the whole court was Emrys.

He felt like such a child, complaining about his problems when Emrys stood there and endured the very same, day after day. He kept that shining, wonderful _sun _inside of him as he stood in the shadows. Washing the floors when he could kill them all with a single word.

He loved them all so unconditionally, while at times Mordred thought he was going to be sick, how much like dirt they treated him.

Mordred got a title. He himself had done so little for Arthur, in comparison, and yet he was showered with so much more love, so much more thanks. Arthur _acknowledged _his presence, his seat at the round table, valued his opinion in court. Mordred knew how much Merlin's heart _ached _for that, as much as he tried to hide it. As he tried to be happy serving water instead of seeing Arthur's face light up as he showed him the beauty he had inside of him. As he tried to be content with the questions Arthur sometimes asked him in his quarters (not in public, never in public, wouldn't want to _embarrass _the king) instead of being asked of his opinion in court. As he told himself that Arthur valued his opinion, of course he did. They were _friends. _

They just couldn't tell any of the nobles that.

Merlin had sacrificed everything. His whole _world_ was Arthur, and yet he never once told him anything. He kept all that magic in. For him. Because he knew he wasn't ready. Because he knew it wasn't time- not yet.

It made Mordred feel weak.

And it was then, as Mordred lay there, panting, when he reached out for the one thing that always comforted him in times such as this: Emrys' magic.

It seemed to be everywhere, in Camelot, like a warm, fuzzy blanket... and yet only Mordred could feel it. Only Mordred acknowledged its presence, felt _awed_ in its presence, let himself soak in as much of it as he could: that beautiful, unconditional _love_ that was contained in that magic.

Mordred took a breath to steady himself, and felt the goldenness warm him.

_Emrys? _Mordred called out. Quietly, as not to wake him if he slept, but loud enough so that Emrys could hear him even from outside the castle walls. As if that took any effort at all, really. Emrys' closeness with magic itslef left Mordred breathless, sometimes.

He felt the exact moment that Emrys cast his mind out to him, the pure waves of massive energy surrounding him like warm water. Mordred sighed, relaxing in it, marveling in it.

_You_ _should_ _be_ _asleep, Mordred, _came Emrys' gentle, tired sounding voice.

_How_ _can_ _I_ _sleep_ now, he asked, eyes closed in pleasure, feeling the massive, effortless warmth that made Emrys who he was.

Emrys seemed unamused, as if he was telling him a joke. The fact that he _didn't_ _know_ how utterly _intoxicating_ his very being was made Mordred want to throw something out of a very high window. _Mordred, I'm serious, _Emrys thought to him tiredly.

Mordred clenched his teeth unhappily, but didn't push the subject. _Why are you still out of bed? _He asked instead. It was nearly morning; the man hadn't gotten any sleep at all.

_Look out your window. _Emrys thought back to a second thought, Mordred stood up and padded over to the window, looking at the cobblestones below. The faint clack of a horse's hooves drew his attention to the small figure entering the city on a black horse. Merlin.

_Emrys, _Mordred cast out to him, sending his worry and empathy back. He knew how hard sleep was for him as it was. _What were you doing this time._

Merlin sent reassurance and serenity back to him. _It's alright. _He soothed. _There was a group of... Wyverns, in the forest. People had gotten pretty riled up about it._ _I knew it would be easier without Arthur._

Mordred felt his eyes flutter, drowning in the emotions Merlin was giving him. _And you got them? _He asked, content, humming happily.

He could feel Emrys' amusement. _I got them. Sleep, now._

Mordred stumbled reluctantly over to his bed, curling up there. Why was he suddenly so tired? _What about you?_

_Arthur_ _the_ _prat_ _will_ _want_ _to_ _be_ _woken_ _soon. _A certain kind of fondness the warlock reserved only for Arthur was in those words. Mordred was usually jealous, but, on the brink of sleep, he found happiness the only emotion coursing through him. _I don't have time to stop over._

_Oh. _Mordred thought unhappily, but too tired to formulate anything but that.

He could feel Emrys' faint amusement, before all airs dropped and the quiet words sounded in his head: _I love you._

The words were breathtaking enough; _Emrys_ loved him, but the proof, the literal emotion that flooded into their little mental link left Mordred breathless. _I'm not sure love covers it, _he admitted, and he could practically feel Emrys roll his eyes.

_Thank you,_ Mordred sent sleepily after a moment. Emrys always had time for him, and the thought made his heart flutter. The warlock had so much love in him... it was a pity that he received so little in return. Sometimes Mordred knew that he, too, was the only light in Emrys' world. The only person who could _really _understand what it's like; hiding your very being from the people you love the most.

_Always, Mordred._

xXx

Nobody noticed the way Emrys looked exhausted the next day. Nobody ever noticed.

Sure, Arthur had started laughing at him that morning when he saw him trip over his own feet, and Merlin had grinned at him that grin he saved for Arthur- but Mordred knew that he must be hurt. Merlin was noble, undoubtedly the most selfless person he knew, but to give so much for someone only to be laughed at would make anybody's heart ache.

Emrys closed his eyes a little bit too long for a second as he had sat down at the edge of the training field when they had started to spar. Nobody was even looking at him, so how could anybody notice? How could anybody realize that the man was _tired _and desperately needed an afternoon off?

"Mordred, what are you doing?" Percival's voice made him tear his eyes away from the most impressive creature in his world to regard the brawny knight. The man looked genuinely curious, concerned as to why he hadn't joined them yet, and it touched as well as angered him. Why did he get all of this respect, all of this concern, while Emrys, in comparison, deserved none of it?

Mordred smiled at him, easing the knight's worry. "Nothing, I'm sorry, I'm just a little tired is all."

You're_ tired?_ Mordred practically screamed at himself. _You have no right to be tired. Your nightmares are nothing next to his, and you know it. At least you got any sleep at all._

Percival lowered his eyebrows in concern, before his expression flooded with understanding. "Nightmares?" He asked gently, and Mordred hesitantly nodded his yes."I know what you mean. Morgana, all that blood on your hands, heck, even magic itself scares the living daylights out of me sometimes."

Mordred tried not to let it show how much that broke his heart.

He thought of the stories Emrys had told him.

_All I know is that I've lost both of my parents to magic. It is pure evil. I will never lose sight of that again._

_I am indebted to you, Merlin. I had become confused. It is once again clear to me that those who practice magic are evil and dangerous. And that is thanks to you. _

How did Emrys have any heart _left_.

Percival quirked a smile at him, and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "You should go home, get some proper rest," he told him.

Mordred opened his mouth to protest, his eyes flickering ever so briefly over to Emrys' hunched- over figure, cleaning chain mail, but someone interrupted him.

"Percival's right."

The young druid started a little bit, turning, wide eyed, to see his king behind him.

Mordred sputtered for a bit. He couldn't go back. He didn't deserve that privilege. "I- Sire-"

"I insist." Arthur said, smiling while his eyes clearly portrayed his birthright.

Mordred glanced over at Merlin, who was now alert, his eyes on Arthur.

His eyes slipped back to the king, who nodded at him and clapped him on the back. "Get some proper rest, Mordred. I'm sure Gaius could give you something, as well, if the problem persists." Arthur's eyes looked at him, kind. "A zombie of a knight is no use to me, anyway," he teased, smiling. The two of them walked off, Percival glancing back at him once more, as if to say, 'go on.'

Mordred began the slow journey off of the training grounds. Or, at least, it felt like a slow one. He felt Emrys' eyes on him as he drew nearer.

_Has something happened? _Merlin asked him, worry in his eyes. The chainmail was in his lap, all but forgotten.

Mordred felt utterly mortified._ I... I was given the rest of the evening off._ More than anything he wanted to lie, but for how much Emrys was denied, he thought that he deserved to be given the truth, as ugly as it was.

Emrys' eyes widened with surprise, before he smiled, nodding kindly at him. _You deserve it, Mordred._

Mordred had to look away. _I do not. _He countered sadly.

He nearly jumped out of his skin again as he heard Emrys stand up, and when he turned his head, Emrys' eyes were right there, burning into his. _No, Mordred, never say that. _His eyes softened, and Mordred felt the sun- no, sorry, Emrys' magic- nudge his own, and he had to take a breath to pull himself back together, his eyes fluttering. _You matter to me._

Mordred looked up at him, completely floored that that could be so, as he always was.

_Call for me if you need help sleeping. _Emrys finished kindly.

"Merlin!" A very distinctively _Arthur _sounding voice called from the field.

Merlin smiled goofily. "One day I'll lose patience and murder him," he joked. Mordred could hardly see the grinding fatigue that he his so well_._

xXx

He never did call Emrys, but after hours of tossing and turning, the man's mind quietly slipped into his, apparently _needing_ no call.

Mordred sighed- both mentally and physically. _How did you know I wasn't asleep? _He asked wearily, climbing out of bed to look out of the window at the afternoon sun.

_I'm not as stupid as some people make me out to be, _Emrys replied lightheartedly.

Mordred closed his eyes, frustrated. The world was so unfair to him, and it seemed like he didn't even care.

Emrys sent a surge of calm to him. _Hey, it's okay. _He said, before answering his question. _Your magic felt restless, is all._

Mordred took a minute to let that sink in. The man's relationship with magic itself was... unreal.

_Mordred? _Emrys asked in a small voice. Mordred realized he hadn't responded.

_Will you come here after you're done? _Mordred asked, needing the reassurance.

Emrys sent a wave of it to him, and if Mordred was honest he nearly collapsed. _Always, Mordred._

xXx

Merlin came into his quarters late that night. The door shut quietly, and Mordred looked up to see Emrys enter. He looked exhausted; not only physically, either, but his magic actually ached.

Frowning, Mordred hastily put down the pen he had been using and only a second later the little druid had collided with the warlock's chest.

Laughing weakly, Merlin looked down at his own personal octopus, and rubbed his cheek against the dark curls, relishing the feeling. "Why aren't you asleep?" He asked.

Mordred didn't answer for a moment, his eyes closed, clinging to him. "Unlike you, I did get some sleep last night. I was fine after a few hours." Mordred closed his eyes happily. "Besides, I had some work to do." He almost added, _'knightly things', _before realizing that was a cruel thing to say.

Merlin took a shaky breath. "Ah," he said.

Mordred pulled back, meeting his eyes worriedly before leaning in for a kiss. "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

Merlin leaned his forehead against his. "Arthur seemed pretty stretched thin today." He explained. _And so he took it out on you,_ Mordred thought, frustrated. "I couldn't get him to tell me why, but it seemed like something big." The underlying sadness in his words, that there really wasn't enough trust there for Arthur to tell him, made Mordred want to cry out. Emrys was just a servant, after all.

In truth, Mordred forgot that sometimes. It was easy to, when you saw that constant, thrumming of power running through his veins. He looked like a god, then.

Merlin had closed his eyes. "Emrys, you need to sleep," Mordred insisted.

His vibrant, sad blue eyes slid lazily open, and they stayed like that, seemingly staring right into his very soul, before he nodded at him, and pulled his forehead away. "Only if you do the same," he qualified.

Mordred resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I practically fall into a coma when I'm that close to you for that long."

Merlin looked unamused, but leaned in to kiss his forehead and moved over to the table to take his shoes off, wincing as he did so.

"Did he really work you that hard?" Mordred asked, timidly.

"Nah, I'm just a complainer," Merlin assured him, flashing him a smile. It was a clear lie.

Merlin put his shoes aside, looking up to see Mordred looking at him sadly, and lowered his eyebrows as he stood up, taking the steps over to him and quirking a smile, trying his best to cheer him up. Mordred caved and smiled faintly back, which made Merlin's smile grow victoriously.

"Come on," Merlin said, pushing him playfully backward, "Let's get some sleep."

Mordred's smile slipped off his face as soon as Mordred had his back turned, but he followed Merlin as he slipped under the covers and placed his head at its normal position on his chest. A light smile gracing his lips as he realized he could now use the word 'normal'. Nearly every day, now, Merlin would spend the night. It helped him sleep unbelievably better; the both of them.

Besides, there was the small matter that Mordred's bed was actually suited for a full- grown man. Emrys had teased him about the absurd fluffiness level of it, too, nearly daily when he had first agreed to spend the nights with him, saying that perhaps it was simply because the bed that he agreed, and not him. Mordred rolled his eyes at the memory, before a thought occcured to him.

"What are your nightmares about, Emrys?" Mordred asked, all of a sudden.

Merlin gently carded his fingers through Mordred's hair, not speaking, and after a while Mordred just kept silent, assuming he wasn't going to answer.

"I wish I could say something creative," Merlin teased, breaking the silence, and Mordred's eyes fluttered open. "Or at least unique. But I'm afraid mine are pretty cheesey."

Mordred shifted his head a little, making the fingers in his hair pause, before asking, "What do you mean? What are they about?"

"Life without you," Merlin said simply.

Because life without Mordred was life with just Arthur, and nobody could handle that much heartbreak.

**Guys there's plot coming someone hold me**


	2. Assasins

**This is a bit shorter than the previous chapter, but it was a good stopping point. Before things go... *cough* downhill.**

_Mordred shifted his head a little, making the fingers in his hair pause, before asking, "What do you mean? What are they about?"_

_"Life without you," Merlin said simply._

_Because life without Mordred was life with just Arthur, and nobody could handle that much heartbreak._

xXx

Mordred hadn't even drifted off yet when, without warning, Emrys suddenly sat up, making Mordred cry out in surprise and nearly fall of the bed.

"What is it?" Mordred asked, his voice panicked.

"Sorcerers," Emrys gasped. "There are sorcerers in Camelot."

Emrys was already pushing himself out of bed and fumbling to get his shoes, and Mordred rubbed his eyes, urging himself to wake up, throwing off the covers.

"How do you know?" Mordred asked, standing up. Emrys finished putting on his shoes, came over to him, and pushed him back onto the bed. Mordred frowned.

"Their magic is full of hate. It's..." Emrys shivered. "Be thankful you can't feel it, love."

Mordred looked pained. "I'm sorry." He made to stand again, but Emrys pushed him back down. Mordred looked annoyed.

"Stay here- don't make me enchant you," Merlin added, thinking Mordred looked shifty.

Mordred looked like he was drowning in his own malcontent, his mouth twisted unhappily, but his eyes were grudgingly willing. He nodded, once.

Emrys' eyes softened. "Get some sleep, Mordred. I'll be back soon."

Mordred started to stand again, but before Merlin could push him down, he grabbed the warlock's shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. Merlin was surprised by his sudden ferocity, but, after a minute, broke away with a crooked grin.

"Sorcerers. Camelot. Arthur's imminent fate." He reminded him.

Mordred smiled, a little, shyly, before sitting back down on the bed and curling up there.

"Goodnight, Mordred," Merlin said affectionately.

Mordred smiled again. "Goodnight, Emrys."

Merlin disappeared behind the wooden door.

xXx

When Mordred's eyes fluttered open to the new morning sunlight, he knew he was alone. It wasn't hard to tell if the sun was next to you or not, after all.

Mordred sighed unhappily, but tossed the covers aside and began getting ready for the day. He had training with Arthur and the others at noon. If he was lucky, Emrys would be there.

He frowned as he laced his boots. Another night without sleep. Mordred ran a hand through his hair, and wished to the gods that Arthur still wasn't upset by that mysterious issue that he refused to tell Merlin. He didn't know if Emrys could handle another day of borderline abusement. He looked sadly into the mirror. He felt loyal to his king- how could he not, he listened to _Emrys_ talk so highly of him nearly nonstop- but if Arthur touched a hair on Emrys himself's head...

Mordred drew a breath, closing his eyes to calm himself.

That loyalty would be tested.

xXx

"Mordred," Sir Leon greeted him in passing, later that morning. Mordred smiled in return, and he wouldn't say it was entirely faked, but it wasn't the knight's approval he longed for.

Mordred hurried his feet, taking great care not to miss a turn on the path he had all but memorized. After an hour of mulling about in his chambers and telling himself he was actually getting work done, he had finally simply given up and stormed out the door.

His knuckles rapped against the wooden doors to Gaius' softly.

"Come in," Gaius' kind voice called only moments later.

Mordred approached the physician rather timidly, still feeling rather humbled at the thought of _Emrys_' mentor and father figure, but Gaius' small, kind smile never failed to draw forth one of his own, and the tension was immediately forgotten.

"Ah, Mordred, my boy, what do you need?" Gaius put down the bottle in his hand and regarded him with his full attention, making Mordred blush, slightly.

"I- I was wondering if you'd seen Merlin recently, sir," Mordred spoke. Emrys' other name felt so strange on his lips, even though he so frequently heard it on everyone else's. It irritated him, sometimes. Mordred thought that it didn't do the man justice.

Gaius' forehead creased with confusion and a touch of concern. "I was under the impression that he was with you."

Mordred swallowed and glanced down at his boots. "He was," Mordred managed, the blush still on his cheeks, "but then he had felt the presence of other sorcerers in Camelot and had felt the need to investigate. I haven't seen him since."

Gaius raised an eyebrow, concerned. "Sorcerers? In Camelot?"

Mordred found it ironic that both himself and Gaius were no strangers to magic. He inclined his head. "Yes, sir. Malevolent ones, too, if Merlin's feeling was anything to go by."

Gaius looked exasperated. "Stop calling me 'sir', Mordred, you know very well that I think of you as an son, now." Mordred positively glowed. "Well, I hope it wasn't anything too serious. Not Morgana, I hope."

Mordred shook his head. "I doubt it. He would have recognized her magic, if that were the case." He paused, sighing. "And likely he would have accepted my help."

Gaius looked at him with something in his eyes Mordred couldn't quite understand. "You know how seriously he takes to protecting you, Mordred. If the Triple Goddess herself were on our doorstep, I doubt he'd let you fight." Gaius smiled as the poor boy blushed again before asking gently, "Did Merlin get any sleep at all, then?"

Mordred's expression darkened. "I- I don't think so." He looked sadly at the older man. "This is the second night in a row, Gaius."

The old man sighed. "Anything happens tonight, and I give you full permission to knock him out with your own magic, understood?"

Mordred quirked a smile. "You know my magic is no match for his, Gaius."

The physician's kind eyes flooded with understanding. "You watch over him, Mordred."

Mordred smiled shyly. "Always, Gaius."

xXx

Not ten minutes later, as the druid mulled his way through the labyrinth of a castle over to the training grounds, Mordred's face light up completely, his eyes recognizing the sun himself. Mostly hidden by a towering stack of laundry, maybe, but still there.

_Emrys!_ He called, a grin taking over nearly half of his face.

_Mordred? _Came the response, a curious head peeking out from behind the pile of laundry.

He didn't even look tired, that was the thing. Magic easily covered up the dark circles that would have no doubt have been all too noticeable under his eyes, and the faked enthusiasm and energy- while Mordred knew it took a lot from him- was Emrys' specialty. Of course, he was the only one who saw the after- effects of it, later that night, when it took it's toll. Sad eyes. A weary voice. Sometimes even tears.

Those nights were the worst.

Mordred felt a flash of depression move through him, and he sought to distract himself. And distract Emrys. As much as the man was brilliant at hiding his sorrow, Mordred knew him well enough to spot the cracks in his mask. _Do_ _you have a minute? _He asked.

Emrys- probably subconsciously- sent a little bit of happiness over to him. Mordred guessed that his words must have let more of his sadness show than he had intended.

_I've just got to carry these clothes up to Arthur's chambers; we can talk then. Meet me there?_

_I'll help you, _Mordred offered.

_No, no, _Emrys was quick to interrupt. His words were hasty, and because of this, Mordred caught the pain in them. _That would look suspicious._

Of course. A knight helping a servant with his work. What had he been thinking. Mordred's eyes dropped to the floor. His chest ached. _Okay, _he acquiesced quietly. _I'll meet you there, then._

xXx

Merlin hummed into Mordred's dark curls as the druid hugged him fiercely, refusing to let go, even though Merlin was sure it had probably been at least two minutes since the man had propelled himself into his chest. Merlin relished the comfort, even if he did feel on edge, holding Mordred like this in the king's very chambers. Merlin closed his eyes, trying to push away the sorrow.

"You should reveal yourself to him." It was out of nowhere, Mordred's voice, and Merlin's entire body stiffened.

Attempting a lighthearted laugh that really was quite pitiful, Merlin asked, "Where did this come from?" He rubbed his cheek against Mordred's hair, seeking and receiving the comfort.

"I'm tired of seeing you so sad all the time. It seems like you're always in the shadows, thankless and tireless and-" Mordred stopped himself, his voice becoming thick with admiration. "You'd be so much happier if he could recognize you for what you are." Merlin felt Mordred's magic rub up against his gently. The awe that always seemed to radiate from the druid never ceased to puzzle Merlin.

"Reveal yourself, Emrys," Mordred pleaded.

Merlin's entire form immediately sobered. "No." He said; gently, but firmly.

"Please?" Mordred's little voice sounded so hopeful, and Merlin swore his chest was actually going to burst. His arms around Mordred tightened.

Silence. Nothing but silence. Mordred's desperation pushed him over the edge of making an equally desperate decision.

"Fine... _I'll_ reveal myself." Mordred's brain raced with the sudden plan. "That way, we can see how he reacts, make _sure_ Arthur's ready, and even if he's not... well, then, I'm expendable anyway, and we would _know_-"

Merlin pulled away, his dark eyes demanding his. "Mordred." He started.

Mordred looked back, as strongly as he could, his heart melting at the force of the other's stare. He couldn't hold it for long. His gaze flickered to the floor.

A finger lifted his chin up, and this time he met Emrys' eyes to a softer look. "I love you too much for that," he said.

Mordred blushed. There was a pause, where neither of them spoke. "Will you be at training today?" Mordred finally asked.

Emrys' face lost some of it's enthusiasm, but he smiled as he gestured to the pile of clothes beside him. "I'm afraid not. Arthur has given me some _thrilling_ jobs to do."

Mordred frowned at the falseness behind the smile. "I know you didn't get any sleep last night." Mordred accused him.

Emrys' facade faltered only slightly before a grin was plastered on his face again, and he waved at him. "I'll be fine. A time consuming job, finding those sorcerers, perhaps, but magically it wasn't very draining. Some assassins they were." Emrys grinned at him, again, trying to get him to smile, but Mordred's eyes remained sad.

"You're still human, Emrys, you need sleep."

Merlin sighed. "Mordred," he said, exasperated.

After a pause, Mordred gathered enough courage to ask, "When can I see you again?"

Merlin smiled slowly as if he knew something Mordred didn't. "The prat himself as decided that he wants to go on another _hunting trip_." Emrys gave him a look. "I heard him talking about it this morning. Knights and all. I'll see you then."

Mordred hesitated, before shyly leaning in to kiss him.

"Arthur's coming," Emrys whispered to him, after a moment, pushing him away. "You should go. Quickly."

"Alright," Mordred agreed, looking unhappy about it but stepping towards the door. "I'll see you on the hunting trip, then."

Mordred was pretty sure that Emrys had tried to smile.

**If you listen closely you can hear my life slowly disintegrating into a pile of Merdred feelings.**


	3. Hunting Trips (never end well)

**Hello, lovelies. This chapter makes me want to throw myself down a flight of stairs. Actually, there is a lot of Gwaine, and I'm rather fond of him, so there is my light in this storm of endless agony.**

**Enjoy. :)**

_"Arthur's coming," Emrys whispered to him, after a moment, pushing him away. "You should go. Quickly."_

_"Alright," Mordred agreed, looking unhappy about it but stepping towards the door. "I'll see you on the hunting trip, then."_

_Mordred was pretty sure that Emrys had tried to smile._

xXx

"Another hunting trip, Arthur?" Gwaine teased, who stroking his horse in the middle of the courtyard. Emrys still hadn't arrived yet, which gave Mordred a sour mood. "Why am I getting the idea that this is only to annoy Merlin?" Percival chuckled.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It was his bloody idea, Gwaine."

Gwaine looked surprised at that, and Mordred perked his ears up, curious as to why. "Right, princess, like I'd believe that. You know how much he hates these things. He sure complains enough." Gwaine grinned fondly.

"You can believe whatever you want, Gwaine," Arthur drawled. Percival was laughing, but Mordred only felt confused.

It was only due to months of practice that Mordred did not physically lurch forward as he felt Emrys' shining mass of power stumble right into the courtyard at that very moment. That being said, a shy little smile seeped into Mordred's eyes as he watched the man hurriedly apologize and ready his own horse.

_What made you late? _Mordred asked, curiously, trying to push back the touch of concern nagging him. The worst scenarios always came to mind first, when it came to Emrys. It got ridiculous at times.

Emrys didn't answer right away, making Mordred sigh, knowing the man well enough to know that the silence meant he was thinking up a suitable way to hide the truth. _I had nine million things to do, Mordred, excuse me if I'm a few minutes late._

Mordred twisted his mouth unhappily, but the tired overtone to Emrys' thoughts kept him quiet. Hopefully he would have the chance to talk to him later.

"Mount up!" Mordred heard Arthur call from the front, and Mordred patted the horse's neck, softly, giving it a soft, friendly nudge with his magic before climbing up onto the saddle. He saw the others do the same.

He tried to be discreet about watching Emrys' every move, as he usually was, but the added concern of the warlock's lack of sleep made him mind less and less about the casual, curious looks from the other knights.

As they rode out of the castle, Emrys was laughing at something Arthur had said, and the latter was grinning, looking pleased with himself.

He still didn't understand how the hunting trip could have been _Emrys'_ idea. He knew how tired the man was, and how much the hard work would hurt him, how much he hated hunting trips on a good day. Why would he _suggest_ one, _now_?

Mordred already knew the answer, he simply didn't want to admit it to himself. Even though he knew Emrys loved him, he couldn't ignore the small pangs of jealousy every time he watched as Emrys made yet another gesture of his pure, unfailing loyalty to his king.

Emrys knew that hunting trips always cheered Arthur up.

xXx

"Wow! That was a _brilliant_ shot!" Arthur was laughing, that rich, genuine laugh that he knew Emrys had always admired. Mordred looked at him, Emrys, who was standing, slightly disheveled, half behind a tree a ways away. His gaze shot to Arthur as soon as he heard the words, and a bright, brilliant smile had crossed his face. Mordred's heart melted at the sight. He knew it had been Emrys' shot. The wild boar had been charging at Arthur. Mordred could still taste the familiar flavor or Emrys' magic in the air.

"Mordred, was that you?" Arthur asked, smiling like the sun. "Blimey!"

And then, suddenly, it was as if his world collapsed. Disintegrated. From where he stood, he could see the brilliant smile fall off Emrys' face, gradually, his eyes quietly masking the pain that began to seep into them. Mordred couldn't get his mouth to move. He knew he should take the credit, because Emrys couldn't, and yet every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do_ anything but_.

_Mordred._ Emrys' gentle voice was weary. Pain laced the edge of the word, but it was not unkind. _Take it._

The man he loved was hurting more than he could imagine and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Yes, Sire." He responded, trying his best at a ghost of a smile. He had turned toward Arthur, but Emrys' tortured expression was burnt into his mind.

Arthur beamed at him, the one that Emrys craved, and took the few steps toward him to clap him on the back. "Seriously, Mordred, that was the best one I've seen in years."

A couple of knights said things in agreement. Mordred smiled up at his king as best he could.

He never thought he would hate being so loved.

xXx

The rest of the day passed with comparative ease. They didn't catch anything of a mentionable size, and Emrys allowed him a deeper mental link than usual, meaning that Mordred spent his time tuning out practically everything, drowning in the sea that as Emrys' magic.

Elyan had tried to spark a conversation between them as they rode on to find a place to settle for the night, but gave up after only a minute or so of his distracted, halfhearted answers. Mordred admired his kindness, and he didn't want to offend him, but it was hard to admire anything anymore. Not when _Emrys_' magic was so close you could _feel _its heat.

Despite even that, however, a sheen of sorrow had settled over the druid.

His eyes flickered uneasily over to Merlin when they stopped to make camp. The warlock was fumbling to get off his horse, and only scarcely managed to do so without falling over. Mordred looked away, pained.

"Merlin, what on earth are you doing?" Arthur laughed at him.

Mordred looked back at Emrys to see him smiling back, lightheartedly.

The strength that took.

"Sorry, sire, I'm just tired."

"Well, perhaps setting up camp will help you wake up?" Arthur teased, hitting Merlin in the back harder than necessary, and walked away.

As soon as the king had his back turned, pain shone through Emrys' eyes.

_Are you alright? _Mordred asked.

Emrys took a moment to answer. _Yes._

Mordred dismounted slowly, unclasping the cloak around his neck and hanging it on his horse, feeling useless. _I love you, _he tried, lamely.

_I know, Mordred. _Merlin replied, his small, simple little smile lighting up Mordred's world. _That's the reason I'm standing at all._

Mordred flushed and tried to look away, but found that he couldn't bring himself to.

"Well you could make it a little more obvious," came the quiet, teasing voice of Gwaine from behind him.

Mordred turned around, trying his best to look innocent. "Gwaine?" He asked, praying that he wasn't implying what he guessed he was.

Gwaine had a sort of sadness in his eyes, an understanding sadness. "Oh, please. They may call me thick, but I'm not _that _thick." He smiled kindly at Mordred. "I know what that sort of look means."

Mordred's eyes widened, slightly, with fear. He swallowed. "Has Arthur-"

"Noticed? Something right under his nose?" Gwaine interrupted. He made a face, nodding in the direction of his king. "When has that ever happened?"

Mordred managed a timid smile. They didn't give Gwaine enough credit, he realized. "You won't..." Mordred trailed off.

Gwaine shook his head. "Of course not. Contrary to popular belief, I _can _keep a secret when it is required of me." He grinned mischievously, pulling an apple out of his bag and taking an enormous bite out of it. "I _will_ use it to blackmail you later, though. You are _definitely _coming with us when the knights go out to the tavern from now on. No more lame excuses," he demanded, grinning, his mouth full. Mordred groaned internally. Those were Emrys and his' nights.

Gwaine's expression sobered. "I just wanted to warn you, Mordred. Save your breath. And your heart." His eyes wandered over to rest on the warlock himself. "I don't think Merlin swings that way. Or _any_ way." He made a face, but Mordred could tell the man was truly upset. "Arthur doesn't know it, but he's hardly a stranger to romantic advances." Gwaine's eyes lost their lucidity for a moment. He took another massive bite of his apple. "Truth is, Mordred, I've yet to see him fail to turn somebody down. Be careful, Mordred." Winking, Gwaine nodded at him, solemnly, and sauntered off.

_Definitely more perceptive than we thought,_ Mordred agreed with himself. _But yet, it seems, not quite perceptive enough._

xXx

_How come you were late, this morning? _Mordred asked, timidly, wondering if it was even the best to ask at all. He swirled his spoon around in his watery stew, sitting in a circle around the campfire with the knights.

Merlin was behind him, tending to the horses, but he could feel the tension Emrys felt at the question. Hesitation, wondering if he should simply say, _'leave it, Mordred',_ knowing Mordred would, of course, leave it. Mordred liked this larger, closer link between them. Sure, it made him a little dizzy, but he hoped Emrys wouldn't make him recede too soon.

_Please? _Mordred added, tentatively, at the end of his question. He felt Merlin cave.

_I passed out. _Merlin admitted, quietly. _In Arthur's chambers. _The warlock felt... frustrated with himself. That was utterly ridiculous.

_Emrys_, Mordred said, as gently as he could, _you've been two _days_ without sleep, not to mention the magical strain you've placed upon yourself-_

_Two days, Mordred. _Merlin snapped back. _I can't go _two days _without blacking out. Don't tell me I don't have the mental endurance of a _child_. _

Mordred was stunned into silence at Merlin's tone.

_I'm sorry, Mordred, you didn't deserve that. _Merlin thought, tiredly. Mordred heard soft footsteps on the grass behind him, coming to sit next to Arthur on the log. The king was deep in conversation with Leon, and didn't seem to notice.

_Not a child, _Mordred argued, softly.

Emrys sighed, mentally. _Mordred-_

_Emrys, you have the power to turn day into night, cool the center of the earth, black out the_ sun- Mordred let the pure admiration he felt seep into his words. _And yet you dedicate all of it to the protection of another. _His eyes flickered to Arthur's form, handsomely lit by the firelight. _Not a child. _Mordred argued. _Never a child._

A loud, drawn- out yawn sounded from beside him, Mordred reluctantly tearing his eyes off a torn- looking Merlin to see Gwaine, stretching out his arms, obviously exhausted. "I don't know about you all, but I am done with consciousness for today." Gwaine declared, walking over to his bedroll and plopping down onto it.

Arthur took a deep breath, nodding in agreement. "I think it's time we all get some rest. We leave for Camelot at sunrise."

Mordred felt a little sullen at the mention of such an early hour, but obediently stood and made his way over to his own bedroll. He set his bowl to the side, deciding not to mention anything, knowing it would only mean Emrys would have to wash it. Sadness overcame him for a moment.

Settling down with all the knights in the circle around the fire, he looked to Merlin, who slept a distance away. Disconnected from the circle. Away from reach of the fire.

Although it was summer, there was definitely a sharp chill in the air, the moon shining down on them. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair.

_Are you cold? _Mordred asked, finally gathering enough courage to say something.

He saw Emrys shift._ Only a little._

xXx

Mordred hadn't been sure what had woken him up, but, being of magical decent, he had experienced enough close calls to make sure not to disregard the feeling. He fluttered open his eyes, waiting for them to adjust, feeling out with his magic.

The fire was down to dull embers, crackling softly. Judging by the sky, he wouldn't think it was even midnight yet.

Movement. Mordred's eyes raced over to the source, were he found-

Emrys. Emrys had stood. He looked concentrated on something, looking out into the treeline. Perhaps he had been awakened by the same thing that had woken him?

_What do you think it is? _Mordred thought to him.

Emrys turned his head, surprised. _It woke you, too?_

_Just now, yes._

Emrys turned back to the forest, shaking his head as if to clear it. _It's probably nothing. Go back to sleep, love._

Mordred sat up, as quietly as he could. _You're the one who desperately needs to rest. I can go see what it is, and if it's anything serious, I'll call for you._

_No. If it is anything dangerous, I don't want to risk not getting there on time._

_But-_

_Mordred. _

Mordred's jaw tightened, and he thought of Gaius' words only yesterday. _I give you full permission to knock him out with your own magic, understood? _Mordred sighed. He would have to be quick, taking him by surprise, and use everything he had. But if it did end up being an actual threat... that would simply put them both- and the knights- into deeper trouble.

_Mordred, you're tired. Sleep. I'm sure this is nothing. I'm the one with the odd-magical-attack experience, am I not? _

Mordred wanted to scream with the injustice of it all. _You are in much more need of sleep than I._

Emrys clearly heard the deep feeling of objection in his words. _Well, lucky for you, I care about you much more than I care about myself, so I really couldn't care less. _He teased. Mordred supposed that was supposed to cheer him up. It only worsened the pain in his chest.

_That shouldn't be, _Mordred protested grumpily.

Emrys quirked a smile at him. A lonely, fatigued smile. _And yet it is. Sleep, Mordred, before I knock you out myself._

Mordred knew there was no way he could come out on top. He settled back down on the ground, unhappily. _Come back safe. _He half- demanded, half- pleaded.

Fondness flooded though the warlock. _Always. _He promised.

**I'm pretty sure if I carved out my internal organs with a spoon it would hurt less.**


End file.
